The Native Born; or, the Rajah's People - novelonlinefull.com
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[Ill.u.s.tration: He took her hand that lay clutched in her lap.]
"Dear little Lois, dear little comrade! We are like two architects, you and I. We were very young when we set out on our great task, and no doubt we have made many blunders. In the beginning we each hoped secretly that the time would come when we should be able to crown our work hand in hand. It was that I was thinking of when I sent my message. Well, things have turned out differently--perhaps through our own fault. But the cathedral must go on. Instead of one spire, as we had hoped, there will be two spires. You will build yours, I mine.
They will be far apart, and so we of necessity must be apart, too. But the cathedral will go on; and in the end--who knows?--it may be more perfect than as we saw it in our first great plan."
"But we might have built together, Adam!"
"Yes. We might even build together now--but then it would no longer be a cathedral. It would be a mud hovel like the rest. And that would be wrong--wrong to the world and wrong to ourselves. Have you understood what I mean?"
He waited patiently, his hand still clasping hers. One single piteous tear rolled down her cheek, but that was all, and when she looked up at him her eyes were calm and steadfast.
"I understand quite well what you mean," she said, "and I know that you are right. G.o.d bless and help you."
"And you, Lois."
They exchanged a firm pressure. Then Nicholson rose.
"I must be going," he said. "Will you tell Travers that I shall be around at the office to-morrow morning? If by any chance he has any shares going, I should be obliged if he would allot them to me."
Lois rose also. Her face was turned toward the door.
"If you wait one moment, you will see him yourself," she said. "I think I hear him coming upstairs."
She was right. The next minute the door opened quickly and Travers entered. Evidently something unusual had happened. In one hand he held an open telegram. His face was crimson with excitement and his lips parted as if with a hasty announcement. But as he saw the two standing at the table watching him, he stopped short, looking from one to the other with a flash of amused curiosity in his eyes.
"Hullo, you both here?" he said cheerfully. "How cozy you look. See here, Lois, I've just had a telegram from the Rajah. He wants me to come at once. Can you be ready to start in three days?"
"For Marut?" A rush of color filled her pale cheeks.
"Yes, of course. By the bye, Nicholson, that's your destination, isn't it? We might travel together."
"I think not," was the quiet answer. "I have orders to start next week."
"Well, there's no great hurry for us, I expect. Our friend, Nehal, is of an excitable disposition. I hope you haven't had to wait long for me, Nicholson. You said you had some business you wanted to talk over with me."
"Yes, it was about those shares. But if you are busy--"
"Oh, that's all right. It won't take more than a few minutes to settle. How much do you want to invest? I tell you, my dear fellow, it's a splendid thing, and--"
He was unexpectedly interrupted. He had taken out a heavy pocket-book and was busily looking through some papers, when Lois laid her hand on his.
"I think Captain Nicholson is under a misapprehension, Archibald," she said, in a low voice. "He said you had some shares to sell him, but I remembered what you said about the mine, and I told him that there must be some mistake. I was quite right, wasn't I?"
Every word she had spoken sounded emphasized as though she were striving to convey a double meaning, and the second in which husband and wife looked at each other was to the puzzled witness a painful eternity. With a strong perceptible effort, Travers turned away.
"So my wife has broken the news to you?" he said, smiling. "Yes, I'm awfully sorry. Everything good gets snapped up so confoundedly quickly. Better luck next time. I was quite dreading disappointing you, but Lois, as usual, has taken my disagreeable task from me." He patted the hand which still rested on his own. "Stay and have a little dinner with us," he added cordially, as Nicholson prepared to take his leave. "I'd like to make up to you with a little of my best Cliquot."
Nicholson shook his head. The impression that he stood before a veiled and unpleasant comedy increased his desire to get away.
"Thanks, I'm afraid I can't," he said. "I have work to do. Good night."
"Good night. To our next meeting in Marut!" The two men shook hands.
"Good night, Mrs. Travers. You will be able to be your own messenger now," Nicholson said.
She met his glance with quiet courage.
"They will be able to see with their own eyes that things are going well with me," she answered simply.
When the door closed upon Nicholson's tall form she went back to her husband's side. He was busy consulting time-tables, and hardly seemed aware of her approach. Only when she touched him on the arm did he look up.
"Well, what is it?"
"I want to know if you are angry?"
"What about?"
"The shares--and Captain Nicholson. I felt it was wrong to deceive him. He is not rich, and you told me that the mine was a failure."
"Of course, you have every reason, no doubt, to consider your friend before your husband," he said with a sudden outburst which he instantly regretted. He had encouraged--nay, forced--her intimacy with Nicholson. With what purpose? He himself hardly knew. Perhaps somewhere at the bottom of him he was beginning to dread the honesty of her character as an unspoken reproach. If she were less perfect in her conduct, his own life would have seemed less blamable. Or perhaps his motives had been more generous. He knew he had nothing to give her--and Nicholson was a good fellow. At any rate, it was a mistake to have betrayed even a moment's irritation. She had shrunk back from him, but he put his hand on her shoulder and kissed her. "There! Of course I am not angry. You've lost me a few hundreds, but you're worth it, and I dare say it was all for the best. Run and write a note to the Colonel and say we are coming, there's a good little woman!"
Lois turned wearily away. He had not understood her. She considered him more than she had considered Nicholson. She had wanted to save him from what she felt was a mean and treacherous step. But he had not been able to understand. Nor could she have explained. Between certain characters all real communication is an impossibility, and words no more than sounds.
CHAPTER II
CATASTROPHE
The tea-room, usually the most animated portion of the Marut club-house, had lost its cheerful appearance. The comfortable chairs had been cleared on one side and replaced by a long green baize table littered with papers; the doors leading on to the verandah were closed, and a stifling atmosphere bore down upon the five occupants who were ranged about the table in various att.i.tudes of listless exhaustion.
"I can't think what we have been called here for," Mrs. Cary protested loudly; "and from the way we have been locked in, we might be in a state of siege. I know I shall faint in a minute. Beatrice, pa.s.s me my salts, child."
Her daughter obeyed mechanically, without moving her eyes, which were fixed in front of her. Colonel Carmichael, who was seated at the far end of the table, opposite the Rajah, smiled good-naturedly.
"If _you_ feel yourself justified in grumbling, what about me, Mrs.
Cary?" he said. "You at least are a share-holder, and I suppose there are some formalities to be gone through, but what I have to do with the business I can not imagine."
"Business!" groaned Mrs. Berry from his right. "That's the silliest part of it all! What's the good of getting me to talk business? I don't understand business; I never did, and never shall. Why doesn't Mr. Travers come? I'm sure I have been waiting quite ten minutes."
"Perhaps the Rajah can give us a clue to the mystery," the Colonel suggested. "Rajah, don't you think the ladies could be allowed their liberty? I can not think that their presence is so essential."
Nehal Singh looked up. From the moment he had exchanged nothing more than a brief salutation with the four Europeans, he had sat with his head bent over some papers, reading, or pretending to read. The months had brought a new expression to his face. Pain had cut her lines into the broad forehead; anxiety met the Colonel's questioning gaze from eyes which had once flashed happy confidence and enthusiasm.
"I am afraid I can give you no answer, Colonel Carmichael," he said quietly. "Since Mr. Travers has returned to Marut all control over affairs has pa.s.sed out of my hands into his. For some reason, I have been kept in ignorance as to the progress of events, and I wait here to-day with you as completely in the dark as any one. No doubt he will be here in a few minutes."
"With good news, I hope," Mrs. Cary sighed. "I also am no sort of a business woman, but I understand enough to know that if one invests money in an honest concern one gets interest sooner or later. And so far the Marut Company hasn't paid me a penny piece."